


Without Precendent

by lousy_science



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Death Threats, Drinking, First Time, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, M/M, Not Beta Read, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 22:15:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13727079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lousy_science/pseuds/lousy_science
Summary: One of the lesser-known side effects of a death threat is the appearance of Sonny Carisi in your shower.





	Without Precendent

**Author's Note:**

> Consent is discussed, but at the wrong time.
> 
> This fic is the result of me stuffing my face with Barba/Carisi fic for the last three weeks, please excuse any giant canonical errors made in the pursuit of smut-with-feelings.

Outside his apartment was the city, electric and hyperlinked, full of threat and stimulation. Inside he had a stack of case files and his favorite couch, and that was all the therapy that Rafael Barba needed. 

It had been a long day, and there was a comforting pile of paper to work through. Two piles, in fact, which were side-by-side on his coffee table under a halo of yellow light from brass pendant lamp next to the couch _._ Rafael liked his things, liked being at home surrounded by quality items he’d purchased with thought and care. Under his legs, the couch was buttery leather, reassuringly familiar. 

He loved having things placed in good order. Courts were arranged formally, like a chess board, and while every courtroom had its own quirks, they were always drawn up to a recognizable schema. Courtrooms felt like home. But today, when the guilty verdict was read out, the lines of order had broken. Rafael knew that the defendant’s family would react poorly, but he hadn’t anticipated the father scrambling over the barrier to grab Rafael by his shoulders and scream that he’d would kill him - “ _I will destroy you, you sonofabitch!_ ” - with such force that Rafael’s ears rang afterwards. 

It hadn’t taken long for the man to be restrained. The bailiff had been on him, then a cop Rafael didn’t know, and then, somehow, Carisi was there - moving Rafael to the side, hands in the same place the attacker’s had been, but within the boundaries of order, of what was right. He could’ve done without the endless questions, the strained voice wondering whether he’d been hurt, did he need a glass of water, was he OK?

Of _course_ he was OK. It was a heated attack, not a planned tactic of intimidation, by some schmuck with a hair-trigger temper unhappy that his son hadn’t gotten away with sexual assault and blackmail. Carisi had eyes enough to see that, he was a goddamned detective after all. 

And even Dominick Carisi Jr. could work out that this was nothing like those other death threats. Those had rumpled up his sense of order for a while, bringing a concerned Carisi to his apartment to check exit routes and pace the hallway, startling Rafael’s neighbors. This incident was just a short break of chaos. Hell, it was the kind of break Rafael sometimes loved. He wasn’t above the impulse to throw a rock into a still pond occasionally. He just preferred it when he was the rock-thrower. After all, he made it look good. 

But he had decided to work from home tonight after his phone blew up with concerned messages. His office would only be crawling with nosy well-wishers, “checking in”. Rafael had only so many ways of saying “I’m fine” before his natural penchant for sarcasm emerged. 

The whiskey bottles in the cabinet were beginning to call to him. Rafael cracked his neck, considered a drink. Then a knock came at the door, two brusque taps followed by another a beat later. He didn’t have to check his phone to know who it was, the knocks were signature enough.

Looking at his phone anyway, he saw a series of messages across different platforms. Carisi had to be worried, he was in danger of spraining his texting thumb. 

Opening the door, he leaned back on his heels and watched the relief and nervousness flood over Sonny’s face. 

“Hey! Counsellor, you weren’t replying and,” he crowded into the frame of the door, “I was in the area. Wanted to make sure nothing had happened.”

“No, Detective, Mr. Henderson did not manage to break out from the jail cell your colleagues put him in this afternoon and make his way to my home to murder me in cold blood.”

Sonny nodded enthusiastically. “That’s good.”

“Preferable.” Rafael kept his tone dry. It was a little fun to see how much joy Sonny got from him not being dead on the carpet.

The hand resting against his door jamb waggled fingers, massaging the air between them. “Uh, so, you have plans? Because there’s a boxing match on ESPN, Claude vs Bodi, should be good,”

Then another hand emerged from behind the open trench coat. Holding a bottle-shaped paper bag. “And this needs to be drunk at some point.”

Under the sing-song tone and smile, Rafael could tell that Sonny was still rattled. It was there in the lines around his eyes, a little tighter than usual, and the strain undermining the casual tone of his voice. Rafael didn’t want to be fussed over, but he was tired, and took the road of less resistance. 

Besides, he knew how Carisi was. He took stuff like this to heart. Every threat to his personal squad - and no matter where the judicial system, the NYPD, or Rafael would categorise their relationship, in Sonny’s eyes Rafael was part of his squad - was a personal attack. 

Holding up a hand, he away from the doorway. “You can drink, watch some bozos try to knock each other out,” he said, “but I’m going to work.”

Sonny’s smile relaxed wider. He bounded in with a flurry of words, “...no problem, I’ll just be right outta the way, you won’t even notice me, man…”

Rafael rolled his eyes. He’d get half as much work done, and end up with a lanky detective sleeping on his nice couch. 

Ninety-odd minutes later, and he’d gotten no work done. But after fending off intrusions on his stereo system (“Are these actual vinyl albums, Barba? You’re such a hipster,”) he’d introduced Sonny to Machito, at least. 

“This music’s good!” 

“No shit, Staten Island. There’s more to life than hair metal and soft rock.” 

“Hey,” Sonny pouted, “Wu-Tang is from Staten Island. So is, um, Christina Aguilera.”

Rafael waved his hand. “Wu-Tang did not help invent salsa music, this man and his band did. And do not talk to me about Miss Aguilera, who put out a Spanish album without even learning how to speak it.”

Sonny scoffed into his drink, and said something about Ricky Martin that Rafael decided to ignore. He did not ignore the splash of whiskey added to his own glass. Carisi might not know good music, but he had decent taste in booze. Holding it up to the light Rafael saw the room washed in amber light, the blond in Sonny’s hair shine with gold.

Rafael swayed a little as he made to get up. The whiskey had gone down a little too quickly. He remembered that he’d forgotten to eat. Should’ve told Sonny, who would’ve probably offered to cook him a three-course meal on the spot.

“I need to get to bed,” he announced to the room. “Some of us have important jobs to go to in the morning.”

“Oh yeah, and what am I, a florist?”

Rafael batted Sonny’s shoulder with a soft fist. “Florists _do_ do important work. Think of all the marriages they save. You,” He drove a finger into the hard muscle of Sonny’s bicep, “are more of a risk to marriages.”

“Me? I believe in the sanctity of marriages! All of ‘em, man and wife, wife and wife, man and man, any other consenting adults doing their thing,”

“Yeah, yeah, like I don’t see the goo-goo eyes you get from juries when I put you on the stand. You think they can go back to their dumpy husbands after seeing the handsome cop telling ‘em about serving and protecting?”

“Whatever, with you there grandstanding in some trillion-dollar suit, no one would notice me if I was up there naked.”

“Oh Carisi, I think they would.”

As Sonny rolled his eyes, Rafael stood up fully and stretched. “You can crash here if you want. No shoes on the furniture, light switch is by the door.”

Rubbing at his chest, he looked down at Sonny through his eyelashes, smiling lazily at the sheer expanse of him on Rafael’s favorite couch. “And if you need me, I’ll be in the shower.”

Sonny’s laugh followed him down the hallway. 

 

The shampoo that Rafael used was expensive and smelled like amber and neroli, but it still stang his eyes just like the stuff his Mama used to buy at the Shop’n’Go in the Bronx. Organic and gentle, his ass. Running his hands over his hair, he reminded himself to ask Rudi for something else next time he was at the salon. 

Hot water could fix a lot of things. It was fixing Rafael’s sore neck, it was washing away the day that had passed - though the drinking hadn’t hurt, either, and neither did Carisi’s company, Rafael could admit. He could lie to himself as well as he could lie to anyone else - flawlessly - but he knew it was futile. 

The incident today had put him on edge. The case before this one he’d lost, and he was still feeling sore over it, having not got the justice the victims deserved. And then to have someone threaten his life, as if the courtroom meant nothing, as if the laws of the land didn’t apply and some asshole could beat him into submission - it was everything he hated. It made him feel weak, he supposed. 

The distraction of a friendly face and company had buffered him for a while, but now the feeling was back, an unease in the pit of his stomach. Whiskey, conversation, hot water - he’d try sleep next. Sleep and jerking off. 

Combing his fingers through his hair, he heard the bathroom door close. 

The sound seized him. Suddenly he was back in the courtroom, the perp’s father screaming at him again, words like _kill_ and _destroy_ directed at him. If they had gotten someone in here - if they’d got past Sonny, oh God, oh Jesus _,_ how was Sonny?

Rafael didn’t move, his hands on his head, his face towards the wall. Panic had grasped him from every side, and then the glass door of the shower swung open. 

A gust of cool air hit the back of Rafael’s legs, and the sound of another pair of feet on the wet tiles joined the steady hum of water. 

He’d known from the sound of swallowed air behind him, from the familiar treat of the footsteps. Maybe he’d known from the first knock on his door, or the first time he’d met Det. Carisi. But it was the smell that confirmed it - not just whiskey, or even cologne, something more distinctively Sonny than that. Rafael’s blood ran hot in relief. The danger signals in his body stuttered, nerve endings lit up, the water too much pressure on his tight skin. 

Fingers tapped on the glass door. An alert, too late, that someone else was in there with him. Throat clearing, then tentatively, “Raf…?”

Sonny had never called him that before. And he’d never sounded so unsure, and Rafael could work out from that syllable alone that Sonny had never walked into someone’s shower without full permission, no matter how much he’d drunk. If his head wasn’t spinning with danger, fighting with relief, fighting with confusion, he’d deliver a lecture on the importance of tone in seduction. 

Instead he spun around to get a load of Sonny Carisi, stark naked in the swirling steam of his shower. Inches away from him, his hands lifted up as if in worship, his face as pink as a blooming rose. 

And as open. The whiskey had hit him hard enough to put this fool idea in his head, his inbuilt nervous energy had propelled him down the hallway, and that open awe he had for Rafael, that soft fondness that Rafael never asked for but sometimes wallowed in, that was all over his face. He was looking at Rafael, and those busy hands were hovering above him. His dick was half-hard, bending slightly to the right, between thighs sprinkled with dark hair.

Rafael had to stop looking down, scold him, and sober them both up. 

“Sonny,” he started saying, trying to get his breath back, when a hand grasped his shoulder.

“You…” Sonny’s voice broke, and it turned out that was all the desperation Rafael could take for the day. 

Pulling them close together, Rafael registered skin-on-skin contact, and how hard the muscles were under the pale skin. He pushed Sonny against the wall. With his hands on him, he could bring this, whatever the hell it was, back under control. 

If only Sonny wasn’t touching him back, looking wrecked, like having the living, breathing, sopping wet evidence of Rafael Barba’s continued existence in front of him was too good to believe. 

That look was what hijacked Rafael’s brain. There’d been too much stimulus already that day, and he gripped the tall, blond, completely inappropriate Detective and leaned down to bite his pec. Why he did that, he couldn’t tell you, but it made him feel alive and produced a supremely satisfying noise from Sonny. 

Biting a colleague, a naked colleague at that, was a line Rafael hadn’t worried about ever crossing. Nothing was in right place anymore, but then when had Sonny ever managed to stay where Rafael tried to put him? 

Hands were in his hair, cradling his skull, and Rafael pulled his eyes away from the bloom of red where his bite mark was up to make eye contact. Sonny looked scared, still, and Rafael couldn’t think about that like he wanted to, because suddenly he was being kissed. 

Kissed thoroughly. It was wet, of course, they were in a shower, and it was deep, and Rafael felt himself losing every train of thought he tried to sustain. He dug his nails into Sonny’s arms, but Sonny just hung on closer. He tasted like cinnamon and peppercorns, toasty and delicious, and of whiskey. Whiskey. Christ, how drunk _was_ he?

Rafael tugged his face away, trying to get a handle on the situation. His head was still in Sonny’s hands. Before Rafael could say anything, Sonny spoke, his voice deep and urgent.

“I’d never let anyone hurt you. I’d kill them if they tried.”

He pushed a hank of wet hair out of Sonny’s eyes. “I’m fine, Carisi, I’m fine. Nothing’s happened to me,”

Sonny’s brow crumpled, and then they were kissing again. 

He was caught up in Sonny’s arms, soft lips running over his cheeks, his jawline, earnest words spoken insistently into the crook of his neck. Rafael cupped the back of Sonny’s head, wanting to pull the weight of those words off Sonny’s back and onto his own. The kid was too much, this situation was ridiculous, and Rafael’s stomach had sunk to the floor. 

His cock, on the other hand, had ascended rapidly. 

The body tangled around his was warm and supple. Wet suited Sonny well. Droplets of water clung on his chiseled body, his hair was loose, a darker shade of gold, like he had looked through the whiskey glass. Rafael licked the line of his neck, something he’d quietly thought about doing many times, before, and tasted the salt of his sweat. 

Catching the soft lobe of Sonny’s ear between his teeth, he thought about nipping all the way down his chest and stomach before he got ahold of that promising-looking hard-on. What was this? He wasn’t usually that much of a biter, and not with a brand new partner. Something in him had gone a little haywire. 

Control. He needed to establish some. 

Rafael let go of Sonny and turned off the shower. 

 

“Go in. Lie down.”

Sonny walked in, the towel dropping to the floor. 

He’d left a light on in his bedroom, and it cast a glow over Sonny’s pale, lean legs, the muscles of his back and ass curving as he climbed onto Rafael’s bed. 

There was anger in Rafael’s hands, as well as need. The booze hadn’t all burned off, the adrenaline was rushing through him along with the knowledge that this was probably a terrible idea. Suddenly the memory of being hit that day and having his life threatened - again, it was infuriating. As infuriating as Detective Carisi’s constant concern and care for him. 

“On your hands and knees.”

Flipping over, Sonny obliged.

Rafael wasn’t stupid, nor was he blind. He’d felt the growing waves of attention Sonny had for him, sometimes admiration, sometimes frustration, sometimes something warmer and possibly, Rafael had considered, carnal. But he didn’t know how aware Sonny was of his transference, if this overgrown kid had even considered he might not be straight, let alone actively followed through. It hadn’t been Rafael’s business to know. Which had only made him more curious, a curiosity he generally put a stop to whenever it reared up; like the moments when Sonny’s satisfaction at closing a case made him grin ear-to-ear, or when he moved into Rafael’s space to make a point, his brow furrowing with concentration. Or when he wore those dark pants which stretched too tightly over his ass. 

An ass Rafael suddenly had in his hands. Sonny had made the first move, but he wasn’t going to be in charge any more. 

Watching Sonny grasping the covers in his hands, Rafael reached into the side drawer and tossed some supplies onto the bed. 

Rafael pushed him around a little until his head was dropped down to the bedspread, his wide shoulders slanting down like an arrow to his narrow hips. For god’s sake, he had actual dimples buttoning his lower spine, little divots that Rafael could rest his fingertips in as he grasped that plush ass. 

If he was in his right mind, he’d enjoy this body more. But he was angry, turned-on, scared in the most pathetic way by one lousy threat, and then he had been ambushed in his own shower. 

He pushed Carisi’s hips down, exposing him as much as possible, and through the thump of his heartbeat in his ears he made out the sound of soft gasps. If the vulnerability between them was too sudden, well, it was only getting more sudden. A finger slick with lube pushed in in one thrust. Under him, Sonny huffed all the air out of his body, legs shaking like a nervous colt, backside pushing further up to find any extra space for the intrusion.

The kid was _tight_. Carisi still shook with exertion when Rafael was barely knuckle deep. He twisted his finger to make an extra half-inch. 

While his fingers were busy, his other hand rubbed long lines down Sonny’s back, still holding the lube. Seemed like he might need a little more than he’d started with. 

Making a strangled noise, Sonny’s body seized up for a split second, then he exhaled hard. Bowing his back and pushing back into Rafael’s grip, the blush on the back of his neck spread all the way down his back. 

“Good, good, give it up for me Sonny,” he murmured, trailing one nail down his spine, then clutching at his left hip with a fierce grip. Sliding a third finger in, he felt every suppressed yelp that Sonny was swallowing.

“Let it out. Let me hear you.”

“ _Ah, ah, ah,_ ” Sonny wheezed. He was beginning to yield and drew Rafael into the clutch of his body. 

Dropping the lube, Rafael reached for a condom. Not wanting to scramble, despite the kicking urge in his belly to be inside Sonny as soon as possible, Rafael rocked the hips underneath him closer. The waves of heat from their bodies seemed to make every one of his breaths burn. Steadying himself with lungfuls of prickly air, he lined his cock up. His fingers were reluctant to pull out. Inside Sonny was silk and fire, hard-won space desperate for acceptance. 

He pushed in, his hands tight on Sonny’s hips, watching the ripple of his back move like a tidal wave. This felt tidal, an inescapable draw, and all Rafael wanted to do was hammer. But he held his body firmly behind Sonny until the gasps underneath him evened out. 

Pulling out slightly, he slid back in. He felt raw, skinned alive, but mighty with it. Beginning to propel himself quicker, the join between them seemed to grow. He wanted to bend down and lick the beads of sweat scattered over Sonny’s shoulders. 

Rafael shifted angle, bending one of Carisi’s long legs up as he moved them to their sides, bodies bracketed together as he thrust in shorter, harder moves. Now he could see Sonny’s face under his, his golden head curled over, eyes squeezed closed, brow furrowed, breathing through clenched teeth. Sonny’s chest was flushed red and shone with sweat. 

Twisting his hips, Rafael saw when the pleasure hit Sonny. The angle was just right, and his whole body trembled with it. His upper leg kicked weakly into the air, and a hand reached down to cover Rafael’s hand where he had a white-knuckle hold on his waist. 

Their fingers intertwined, and it was too much closeness for Rafael, even as he was balls-deep. He moved their hands down to Sonny’s cock. It was hard and leaking against his stomach. Wishing he’d had the foresight to get his mouth on it, he clamped their hands around the thick length and together they made a few shoddy strokes. 

It was enough; Sonny’s body seized one more time, and the pressure Rafael was inside grew even more intense. 

Rolling Sonny over to his back, Rafael grasped one leg and lifted it over his shoulder. Sonny looked up at him, hair askew, lips bitten, covered in his own seed, dazed. It didn’t take Rafael long, the burst of pleasure from his stomach to his balls curling up his back and creating a clear white space in his mind. 

As he rocked back to slip out, he saw Sonny’s face twitch, looking startled, then wincing. 

Sinking down, Rafael’s hands clutched onto Carisi’s shoulders. He could feel the damp stickiness of Sonny’s come-streaked stomach pressed under his, and thought about what a mess they were. Arms wrapped around him as he breathed deeply against a quivering chest. 

“Never knew it could be like that,” Sonny panted, his hands stroking down Rafael’s sides, “never thought.... You were so good.” 

He kissed at Rafael’s temple and the shell of his ear, while Rafael kept his face buried in the bend of Sonny’s neck. It was beginning to dawn on Rafael what he’d done.

“I hafta,” Sonny said, eyes full of apologies, as he pulled himself out from under Rafael’s dead weight. As Rafael sat up, he watched Sonny walk out of the room on unsteady legs. The bathroom door closed behind him.

Rafael buried his face in his hands. 

Eventually Sonny returned, and through his fingers Rafael could see that he was wearing black boxers. He sunk down on the floor next to Rafael, back against the bed, looking exhausted. His fingertips skimmed Rafael’s thigh. 

Rafael squeezed his head between his palms. He couldn’t bring himself to look down at Sonny yet. “It was your first time.”

“Well,” Sonny paused, shifting around with no idea of how every pained move he made gave Rafael’s guilt an extra stab. “My first time doing that, yeah.”

He laughed, curling a hand around Rafael’s ankle. “And I get the hype! I didn’t expect it to be so, uh,” 

His head pivoted up towards Rafael, as if he was looking for an answer behind his hands. Between his fingers, Rafael looked down, his insides aching. He stayed quiet. Carisi continued, a little more subdued, “Intense. It was intense. And _amazing_. I don’t get why so many people think - well, I know how people are about sex stuff - but it didn’t feel like a sin, you know?”

Rafael was not up for discussing theology right then. He sighed, and let his hands fall to his lap. 

Sonny’s voice sounded thinner, more anxious, “You wouldn’t have, if you’d known? Was I that - was it bad?”

Rafael shook his head. “I shouldn’t have done it at all. And it shouldn’t have been like that, if I’d known. Hell. Are you OK? Are you bleeding at all?”

“No, no! I’m fine!” Carisi scrambled up to his knees to face him. “I won’t be doing any horseback riding tomorrow, but I’m not damaged or anything, fuck, Raf,”

“This wasn’t - _Jesus_. Consent. We talk about it all the time, and here I am,”

“I consented! I climbed into your shower, for fuck’s sake -”

“You were drunk.” Rafael’s words were flat. “I should have sent you out. You didn’t know what you were doing,”

“Not that drunk. You don’t think I know what I want? Me? I’m not the indecisive type.”

Sonny’s palms were hot on his naked thighs, and Rafael could feel the dampness from his recent hand-washing. He let himself look at Sonny’s face, wide open and flushed with sincerity. He could be on the stand. 

“I don’t regret it. I know you’re going to make me leave here, and next time - ”

“There won’t be a next time, Detective.”

“No next time, OK, but know this: I don’t regret any of it.”

Sonny stood up and moved towards the door, and Rafael winced at the sight of red finger marks he’d left on his back.

He turned back, fists curled at his side. “And you were happy. I know you were, even if it was just for a minute. When you were inside me.”

Rafael wasn’t going to lie. For once, however, the right response wasn’t on the tip of his tongue. 

Lifting off of the bed he walked quietly to a set of drawers. He could feel Sonny’s eyes on him as he pulled out pyjama pants and a t-shirt, but he kept his back to him as he got dressed for bed. Behind him, Sonny swallowed. He was waiting, stuck between storming out or being asked to leave. Rafael knew how much weight his words had for this man, and how the repercussions of everything they’d just done were already beginning to escape his control. 

Picking out some clothes from the drawers before closing them, he turned back to hold them out for Sonny to take. Then he pulled on a pair of pyjama bottoms and t-shirt similar to the ones he’d just given Sonny. Briefly, he caught a glimpse of the two of them in his bedroom mirror, looking for a moment like two lovers in a normal domestic scene. 

Turning back to the closet, he reached for a blanket. Sonny would sleep on the couch, in the morning he would leave, and Rafael would come up with a more robust strategy. He just needed a good night’s sleep and a lot of coffee. 

Then he heard the sounds of his sheets being lifted and his pillows - his goose-down pillows, in thousand-count pillowcases - being plumped. Sonny was tucking himself into Rafael’s bed, turned on his side so Rafael’s incredulous glare was being directed at his back. 

It had been a while since he’d had another warm body sleeping next to him. That was one of Rafael’s favorite experiences, but not something he could control for and calibrate to his satisfaction, so it had become a pleasure he usually deferred. His body was still humming with dissipated sexual energy, eager to curl up around the angles of Sonny’s limbs.

This was a big bed. They could keep to each other’s sides. Rafael closed his eyes and tried to not think anymore. 

By the time he woke the next day, Sonny was gone. The clothes he’d worn were folded on top of a chair. Rafael checked them quickly for blood stains and found none. Then he lifted the t-shirt to his nose, and let himself be weak one more time. 

 

 

It took two weeks, an excruciating Uber ride, and eighty dollars worth of flowers, but Rafael had made it to Sonny Carisi’s front door. 

He knocked, feeling ridiculous. He’d even changed suits before coming over. 

The door had an eyehole, so if it didn’t open, Rafael would get the message. He’d already decided he wouldn’t wait more than five minutes. He was glancing at his watch when the deadbolt shifted. 

Sonny lifted an eyebrow at him. “Flowers?”

Clearing his throat, Rafael attempted to summon his dignity. “I understand they are traditional in situations like these.”

“You’re following precedent, huh?” He took them off Rafael and considered the snapdragons and sunflowers. Bending to sniff them, he looked up and Rafael and laughed, opening the door wider. 

“This is my first bouquet, Raf.” He bent to graze a kiss along Rafael’s cheekbones. “Thank you.”

“Well, first times are important.”

“Yeah, someone told me that.”

Rafael leaned into Sonny’s body. “Our first time, neither of us got it exactly right.” 

Sonny leaned back. “Practice is key, counselor. You know, you wouldn’t be my first blowjob.”

“No?” 

“Nah. My fourth.”

Shaking his head, Rafael walked past him into the apartment. He began unbuttoning his coat. “It sounds like you and I have some serious revision to undertake.”

Sonny closed the door behind him. “Lucky for you, I’ve been told I’m an exceptional student.”

Rafael had no idea where to hang his coat up, or where the bedroom was, or what on earth they’d just started. But it was enough that he could see Sonny with an armful of flowers, advancing on him, with a distinctly unscholarly expression on his face. 


End file.
